Despite public opinion, being a writer is not sitting in a hip cafe swilling lattes as the words flow from your fingertips, though there is a lot of coffee involved. It’s not sleeping late and working an hour a day as the money rolls in by the bucket load with little to no effort on your part. It’s not lazy or frilly.

Being a writer is pounding away at your computer at three a.m. when the rest of the house sleeps because that’s when inspiration strikes. It’s laboring away, fueled by caffeine and desire to get in those final words before you’ve got to get the kids to karate. Being a writer is working through lunch because the hunger pangs issuing from your stomach cannot drown out the inspiration screaming in your brain. Burning the toast because you’re lost in thought on your current story arc, scrambling to get the…

Death is an Unmapped Sea

Day dawns and life now reasserts its sway;
Sleep ends and dreams now slowly fade away,
Leaving behind the gains which I thought real.
Reality and the sun the truth reveal,That time has shattered youth and brought old age.
Shall I depart midst over-arching rage,Those aspirations which I held most dear,
Abandoned now as hope gives way to fear?Now that I’m hurt, unheard and unfulfilled,
Can I refute those truths my life distilled,
And face what unmapped seas fate holds in store,
Without a faith to bear me to the shore?

I seem to remember telling you that I now have a new cat.Her name is Kitty. She is almost 4 months old and her favourite food is Felix tuna flavour. She sleeps just about anywhere and has recently taken quite a fancy to the wooden fruit crate in which I keep some of my old writing files.

I also have a new desk. It is quite small and fits in nicely by the window. Try as I might it is stubbornly refusing to eat. I asked in the pet-shop if they had any tasty desk nibbles. This was just before they threw me out.